Katherine Dee
Kellsey Bishop
Lorena Lizarralde
1. What is the trend or situation on which the commentary focuses?
The trend is how grooms are now becoming just as picky if not more about details prior to their weddings, we now have groomzillas.
2. Does the author give the reader an interesting introduction to the issue? Why or why not?
Yes the suthor gave a very interesting intorduction tricking the reader into thinking that a woman is picking a suit for a wedding and then develops into telling you the trend of groomzillas.
3. Does the author explain the context of the issue? How in-depth does he or she go? What do you think this signifies regarding the intended audience of the commentary?
Yes the author explains the context of the issue very well by giving examples of wedding planner's experiences with the grooms and explaning the details that they are focusing on. Such as manicures, pedicures and suits. We think this signifies that the author wants to inform bride's to let the grooms in on the planning and share such a wonderful experience together.
4. What are the possible causes of the trend or situation the author explores?
The causes for this trend were explained by the author as women working harder and not having time for details and men caring more about their engagement because they realize 40 years later people will still be talking about it. TV shows have also let this trend become more socially acceptable.
5. What examples or observations does the author give from his or her own life to back their belief that these are the possible causes?
The author does not give any background information.
6. What is the author's stance on the topic?
The author does not give his personal stance but cites other's opinions. He gives examples of women who both love and hate this new trend and shows the audience that the trend is only beginning.
7. What significance does the author see in this trend or situation?
The author sees that this trend will continue to affect couples in the long run and maybe kill the romance for engagements. Too much money is being spent and ruining the precious moments.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Letter
Dear Cassie,
As I walk through UCF’s student union I notice one thing, hand sanitizer! Every time someone touches a door, a countertop, or just their cup of coffee I notice they take out that bottle of hand sanitizer and douse themselves in it. Now you may remember that part of the graduation gift you gave me was 5 bottles of Bath and Body Works most amazing scented mini hand sanitizers. I love them and use them all day every day. This makes me realize everyone is addicted including me. We feel cleaner, we feel safe, we feel the swine flu will not reach in and attack our defenseless bodies if we just sanitize. Does it really help though? Have you guys over at UF noticed this as well? Every building has a dispenser, every bathroom has a dispenser, every corner I turn to I see the anti-bacterial substance. Even the way we touch and communicate has changed. I used to be a hugger, and hugged to say goodbye and hello to almost everyone. Now I reserve that for my friends and family, not just the occasional acquaintance I see every Tuesday and Thursday. I rarely even approach my own roommates. Is this a consequence of all the media telling us to be cleaner? The posters around our health center telling us to be careful and wear a mask if we feel a slight sneeze coming on? What if the sneeze is just an allergic reaction? Is it fair I get death glares because I’m allergic to pollen?
Just a couple of years ago I remember that I only thought hand sanitizer was a walking sink. It was the way we would avoid walking to the bathroom to wash our hands before and after eating. It was a convenience, not a protective bubble. I talked to a friend and she seems to agree with everything that I’ve just explained. What happens after we put it on and then touch something? Does it still help then? Aren’t we touching billions of bacteria? Are we ever really clean? Another aspect to this trend is now all soaps and shower gels come with a side note that say anti bacterial. Were they not effective before? Should we buy a specific brand more than another? All this nonsense is surrounding me and driving me crazy, I hope all is well at UF and you stay clean.
Sincerely,
Lorena
As I walk through UCF’s student union I notice one thing, hand sanitizer! Every time someone touches a door, a countertop, or just their cup of coffee I notice they take out that bottle of hand sanitizer and douse themselves in it. Now you may remember that part of the graduation gift you gave me was 5 bottles of Bath and Body Works most amazing scented mini hand sanitizers. I love them and use them all day every day. This makes me realize everyone is addicted including me. We feel cleaner, we feel safe, we feel the swine flu will not reach in and attack our defenseless bodies if we just sanitize. Does it really help though? Have you guys over at UF noticed this as well? Every building has a dispenser, every bathroom has a dispenser, every corner I turn to I see the anti-bacterial substance. Even the way we touch and communicate has changed. I used to be a hugger, and hugged to say goodbye and hello to almost everyone. Now I reserve that for my friends and family, not just the occasional acquaintance I see every Tuesday and Thursday. I rarely even approach my own roommates. Is this a consequence of all the media telling us to be cleaner? The posters around our health center telling us to be careful and wear a mask if we feel a slight sneeze coming on? What if the sneeze is just an allergic reaction? Is it fair I get death glares because I’m allergic to pollen?
Just a couple of years ago I remember that I only thought hand sanitizer was a walking sink. It was the way we would avoid walking to the bathroom to wash our hands before and after eating. It was a convenience, not a protective bubble. I talked to a friend and she seems to agree with everything that I’ve just explained. What happens after we put it on and then touch something? Does it still help then? Aren’t we touching billions of bacteria? Are we ever really clean? Another aspect to this trend is now all soaps and shower gels come with a side note that say anti bacterial. Were they not effective before? Should we buy a specific brand more than another? All this nonsense is surrounding me and driving me crazy, I hope all is well at UF and you stay clean.
Sincerely,
Lorena
10 commentary questions with responses from my partner
1. When did the craze about hand sanitizers begin? Before the swine flu?
2. Has the use of hand sanitizer truly lowered the cases of people with the flu?
3. Has the increase in hygiene awareness changed the way you touch your friends, family, co workers?
4. Posters, have you really learned new things from the posters that show students how to cough and sneeze?
5. Has the increase in awareness of hygiene increased the sales of companies selling hand sanitizer?
6. How do you know what you know? (evidence)
7. Who are you to the subject? (perspective)
8. How is this event connected to other events? (patterns or opposing forces)
9. What if things were different? (suppositions/predictions)
10. Why is this important? (significance)
Reponses
Responses
1. My partner believes that yes the craze about hand sanitizer came before the swine flu pandemic. She noticed that UCF installed all the hand sanitizer dispensers before we all knew of the swine flu.
2. She feels that people are probably not as sick because they are more aware of their surroundings and use hand sanitizer more often.
3. She still hugs her friends and family members but feels a lot more cautious about shaking hands or approaching a stranger.
4. She now knows the importance about coughing into the inside of your elbow instead of your hand and tries to apply this new knowledge every chance she gets.
5. She believes it definitely has, especially considering now many stores and companies that never sold it before have it by the tons for the customers.
6.Hilarion believes she knows all this from observations of others and her own change in personal behavior.
7. Hilarion herself is a part of the subject because she is also obsessed with having ehr hand sanitizer bottle on her at all times.
8. This trend is realted a lot to the swine flu pandemic and to the trend of convenience and learning to be more hygenic in general terms.
9. People would be a bit dirtier and be at risk more thorughout a normal day and risk ingesting bacteria all day if you didn't clean your hands prior to eating.
10. This is important becuase people need to be aware of their surroundings and cleanliness to live better longer lives
2. Has the use of hand sanitizer truly lowered the cases of people with the flu?
3. Has the increase in hygiene awareness changed the way you touch your friends, family, co workers?
4. Posters, have you really learned new things from the posters that show students how to cough and sneeze?
5. Has the increase in awareness of hygiene increased the sales of companies selling hand sanitizer?
6. How do you know what you know? (evidence)
7. Who are you to the subject? (perspective)
8. How is this event connected to other events? (patterns or opposing forces)
9. What if things were different? (suppositions/predictions)
10. Why is this important? (significance)
Reponses
Responses
1. My partner believes that yes the craze about hand sanitizer came before the swine flu pandemic. She noticed that UCF installed all the hand sanitizer dispensers before we all knew of the swine flu.
2. She feels that people are probably not as sick because they are more aware of their surroundings and use hand sanitizer more often.
3. She still hugs her friends and family members but feels a lot more cautious about shaking hands or approaching a stranger.
4. She now knows the importance about coughing into the inside of your elbow instead of your hand and tries to apply this new knowledge every chance she gets.
5. She believes it definitely has, especially considering now many stores and companies that never sold it before have it by the tons for the customers.
6.Hilarion believes she knows all this from observations of others and her own change in personal behavior.
7. Hilarion herself is a part of the subject because she is also obsessed with having ehr hand sanitizer bottle on her at all times.
8. This trend is realted a lot to the swine flu pandemic and to the trend of convenience and learning to be more hygenic in general terms.
9. People would be a bit dirtier and be at risk more thorughout a normal day and risk ingesting bacteria all day if you didn't clean your hands prior to eating.
10. This is important becuase people need to be aware of their surroundings and cleanliness to live better longer lives
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Embellishing on commentary idea
A trend I notice here at UCF and most places I go nowadays that seems to stick out to me is the hand sanitizer trend. Everyone carries a bottle of hand sanitizer on their keychain or in their purse. The school has dispensers at every corner and now military bases and hospitals have their spaces filled with it as well. The swine flu pandemic is a big contributor to this hand sanitizer craze. At UCF we even have a student that hands out free bottles outside the student union every Friday as long as you answer some basic questions about how to cough and avoid contaminating yourself. As I sit and observe I notice people cringe and back away from the slightest sneeze or cough and right away pull out that hand sanitizer and douse themselves in it, some even up to their elbows. It made me wonder, has this increase in hygiene really lowered the number of flu contaminations? Has it truly helped us? Or is it all in our heads? Along with this topic I have heard many myths, including the fact that one becomes immune to the hand sanitizer if used excessively. Posters telling one how to cough, sneeze, and even wash our hands have popped up everywhere too. I’m sure people many years ago would never have thought that they needed and ad to tell them how to cough. The hand sanitizer trend has affected me greatly. It makes me feel like I’m in a bubble that protects me from all the bacteria in the world when I take out my favorite Japanese Cherry Blossom hand sanitizer from Bath and Body Works. This also makes me wonder if sales have increased in stores such as Bath and Body Works that sell these mini hand sanitizer bottles in scents that range from every flower possible to warm vanilla. As I observe my close friends and family members I notice they have also decided that the little squirt of hand sanitizer on their flesh creates a shield against our foe, the swine flu.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Brainstorming Commentary Ideas
1. I've noticed a lot of people walk around barefoot. Haven't they noticed how dangerous that is? What if they step on broken glass or get a sickness ? I think they should rethink their decision and realize the danger the are exposing themselves to.
2. Students representing other schools. I think that one cannot be truly happy as a student if you do not take pride in your school and wearing clothing or accesories with a gator or seminole is just betrayel. The only exception would be if you were always a die hard fan of another football team, and even then one should be loyal to their school.
3. The amount of hand sanitizers all around campus. Have they truly made a difference and helped us control the spread of the flu? There are also many people outside the student union willing to give you a free bottle if you listen to them an answer questions regarding how to cough.
4. The water bottle fillers at water fountains in the student union. An article just came out saying it has helped significantly in recycling. People are reusing water bottles. I know this helps our environment but does it truly help our health? Should we reuse water bottles?
2. Students representing other schools. I think that one cannot be truly happy as a student if you do not take pride in your school and wearing clothing or accesories with a gator or seminole is just betrayel. The only exception would be if you were always a die hard fan of another football team, and even then one should be loyal to their school.
3. The amount of hand sanitizers all around campus. Have they truly made a difference and helped us control the spread of the flu? There are also many people outside the student union willing to give you a free bottle if you listen to them an answer questions regarding how to cough.
4. The water bottle fillers at water fountains in the student union. An article just came out saying it has helped significantly in recycling. People are reusing water bottles. I know this helps our environment but does it truly help our health? Should we reuse water bottles?
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Final Draft
Lorena Lizarralde
September 23, 2009
ENC 1101
Professor Moody
Memoir
We were all fidgeting. It was our last day of kindergarten and we all wanted to start our summer. The clock read 1:55 p.m. Only five minutes remained. I looked around the room and saw all the familiar faces of my friends. Ashley, my neighbor and best friend of all time, had an amazing birthday party planned in late June. Peter, he was so cute, I had admired him from afar all year and was hoping to get a chance to talk to him at Ashley’s party. Then there was Ms. Geiger, our teacher. She was tall for a woman and always walked with a sort of elegance you only see on the runway. She was pulling back strands of her dirty blonde hair that somehow always looked beautiful while sniffling. She was sad we were leaving and was touched by the presents we all had brought her. I was going to miss all of this, the playtime, the naptime, and the special lunchroom for us younger kids. Yet, a whole new life was waiting for me, a life of a big kid, a 1st grader, and a 7 year old. In first grade we would be allowed to enter the big fields outside with the tall monkey bars during recess. Summer was the perfect time to practice my skills at the local parks and it was only 1 minute away. The bell rang just then and I ran out as quickly as I could and jumped on my mom who was always waiting outside. “I have great news honey! Get strapped in the back seat so I can tell you all about it!” my mother said to me. I hopped in, buckled up and waited for her to continue. As I waited, I looked at her face. She was so beautiful. She had creases on the side of her eyes that to me represented experience and wisdom. Her hair was cut short at her shoulders dyed a dark red color. Her red hair was always my favorite; it reminded me of my own Hispanic Little Mermaid Princess. She was smiling from ear to ear, one of her best characteristics. She went on to say, “I bought you a ticket to go see your family in Colombia for the whole summer!” I was shocked. What was this? In one instant, she had gone from The Little Mermaid Princess to the evil Sea witch Ursula herself, a traitor and backstabber. My summer was ruined and all she did was grin. I was to leave the day after tomorrow for three full months to meet this group of strangers I was to call family.
Two days and a short flight later I was getting off the plane in Cali, Colombia and was to greet the people that were to torture me for the next three months. I was getting my last bag when I saw an old woman holding a sign that read my name. I may have only been six at the time but I could at least read my name. I approached her slowly. Her face was worn, as if she had had a hard life; she seemed to have a permanent hunch and was dressed in the tackiest floral print dress I had ever laid my eyes on. She recognized me and lunged at me with her arms wide open. I hugged her back softly thinking to myself this must be grandma. After I escaped her death grip I got my grandfather, my aunt Patricia, my uncle Chacho, my cousin Christian and my cousin Federico introduced to me. They all stared for a while and began to ask how I had been doing. I would only respond good over and over again to be polite, but really did these people believe that this is how I wanted to spend my summer?
To get to the house we all rode in a van that reminded me a lot of the private bus that takes me to school. The first thing I learned here was that I had a loud family! Miami has always been known for having loud people but my family was as loud as the NASA shuttles taking off into space. They all talked over each other and no one listened to what the other was saying. It was all getting to be too much when we finally arrived at the house. It was a bland, beat up white house. I had heard wonders from my mother for so many years and I was standing staring at a house that looked a lot like the portable buildings in the back of my school. There was a garden area out front, but gardens mean bugs and bugs and I have never gotten along. There was a gate to get in the driveway, then a gate over the door and then 5 locks on the door before you were allowed entrance. I felt as if I was going into a top-secret threshold. Contrary to my initial impression, the inside was the completely opposite; it was radiant. The antique record player in the corner, the box TV set and the sparkling chandelier hanging above caught my eyes right away. It all had a royal feel to it. I must have shown the awe on my face because my cousins began to laugh when my jaw dropped to the floor. “Didn’t expect this huh?” my older cousin Federico asked with a grin on his face. He was going to be a tall kid, he was almost his father’s height, or should I say my uncle’s height. When was I ever going to get used to this “family?” Federico had curly black hair like mine, and a slim figure for a 12-year-old boy. Christian was awkward. His figure was chubbier around the waist area and he stuttered a bit too much for me to stand. He was one year older than me, yet acted like the toddlers in preschool. Earlier I had caught him playing with ants, who plays with ants?
The next couple of days flew by as I settled in. I was sleeping in my grandmother’s room for the first 2 nights until I shyly confessed to my aunt that since my grandmother snores like a dragon, I could not sleep well at night. Thankfully, I was allowed to sleep in Christian’s room for the remainder of my stay. The first week I watched a lot of TV in Spanish, slept and ate. Once I was tired of that I began to play with my cousin Christian. He showed me how he played soccer outside in the driveway area and how the goal was to hit either the gate leading to the street or the garage door on the opposite end. We would play one on one and I would of course always lose. The game quickly became our favorite pastime as we began a tournament to see who would win the most games by the end of the summer. The loud racket we caused with that soccer ball will never leave my memory as I can still to this day hear my Aunt Patricia yelling “Stop hitting the garage door before you break it!” We never broke it but got to hear what would happen if we did numerous times. I later also came to find that the ants he played with were super entertaining in a house with no toys. We would get a couple together and race them or put them on the wall and see if we could follow them. Eventually they would escape in any crook or cranny and leave our sight. I was suddenly exposed to a different form of entertainment and joy with a new set of eyes.
As we visited various family members around town, I was struck by the poverty level that was considered the normal way of life here. It was incomprehensible. Everyday my aunt donated a plate of food to the family that slept on the sidewalk across from her house. If we got lucky the mother would let us play with her daughter while she helped my aunt clean around the house. The immense level of poverty was without a doubt, higher than what I was used to back home. At the time I never realized that it was caused by the Guerilla warfare going on all over Colombia. The Colombian people were scared for their lives at all hours. This explained the process to enter our household and why we never left the house completely alone. My grandfather and grandmother usually volunteered to stay behind and take care of the house while we went out. Many times I would stay just to have a competitive game of Parcheesi with my grandmother. I’ll never forget that she was a cheater; she would move her pieces to her advantage when I would look away, but never did she confess her sins. The game suddenly had become a game of strategy, a game of who was the sneakier person, and that person would always win.
Although the neighborhood looked old, the people seemed worn, and the “fun” activities you would think of doing weren’t available to us, I was having the time of my life by the end of that summer. Christian had become a brother and my Aunt another mother figure I could count on. They made me laugh and experience what it was to have a big loud joyous family for the first time in my life. My mother had always spoken of the importance of knowing and loving everyone in your family and this trip taught me just that. My life had changed permanently; my eyes were opened to another world, another culture. I improved my Spanish, which was a key to many of my successes later on in life, and walked away with a dozen new loving relationships I would never let go of. That September, I entered the first grade with a more mature attitude that far exceeded that of my classmates. Also, I had stories that surpassed any pool party memory my friends could reminisce on. The next summer was already planned in my head, three months with the most eccentric and admiring family a person could ask for.
September 23, 2009
ENC 1101
Professor Moody
Memoir
We were all fidgeting. It was our last day of kindergarten and we all wanted to start our summer. The clock read 1:55 p.m. Only five minutes remained. I looked around the room and saw all the familiar faces of my friends. Ashley, my neighbor and best friend of all time, had an amazing birthday party planned in late June. Peter, he was so cute, I had admired him from afar all year and was hoping to get a chance to talk to him at Ashley’s party. Then there was Ms. Geiger, our teacher. She was tall for a woman and always walked with a sort of elegance you only see on the runway. She was pulling back strands of her dirty blonde hair that somehow always looked beautiful while sniffling. She was sad we were leaving and was touched by the presents we all had brought her. I was going to miss all of this, the playtime, the naptime, and the special lunchroom for us younger kids. Yet, a whole new life was waiting for me, a life of a big kid, a 1st grader, and a 7 year old. In first grade we would be allowed to enter the big fields outside with the tall monkey bars during recess. Summer was the perfect time to practice my skills at the local parks and it was only 1 minute away. The bell rang just then and I ran out as quickly as I could and jumped on my mom who was always waiting outside. “I have great news honey! Get strapped in the back seat so I can tell you all about it!” my mother said to me. I hopped in, buckled up and waited for her to continue. As I waited, I looked at her face. She was so beautiful. She had creases on the side of her eyes that to me represented experience and wisdom. Her hair was cut short at her shoulders dyed a dark red color. Her red hair was always my favorite; it reminded me of my own Hispanic Little Mermaid Princess. She was smiling from ear to ear, one of her best characteristics. She went on to say, “I bought you a ticket to go see your family in Colombia for the whole summer!” I was shocked. What was this? In one instant, she had gone from The Little Mermaid Princess to the evil Sea witch Ursula herself, a traitor and backstabber. My summer was ruined and all she did was grin. I was to leave the day after tomorrow for three full months to meet this group of strangers I was to call family.
Two days and a short flight later I was getting off the plane in Cali, Colombia and was to greet the people that were to torture me for the next three months. I was getting my last bag when I saw an old woman holding a sign that read my name. I may have only been six at the time but I could at least read my name. I approached her slowly. Her face was worn, as if she had had a hard life; she seemed to have a permanent hunch and was dressed in the tackiest floral print dress I had ever laid my eyes on. She recognized me and lunged at me with her arms wide open. I hugged her back softly thinking to myself this must be grandma. After I escaped her death grip I got my grandfather, my aunt Patricia, my uncle Chacho, my cousin Christian and my cousin Federico introduced to me. They all stared for a while and began to ask how I had been doing. I would only respond good over and over again to be polite, but really did these people believe that this is how I wanted to spend my summer?
To get to the house we all rode in a van that reminded me a lot of the private bus that takes me to school. The first thing I learned here was that I had a loud family! Miami has always been known for having loud people but my family was as loud as the NASA shuttles taking off into space. They all talked over each other and no one listened to what the other was saying. It was all getting to be too much when we finally arrived at the house. It was a bland, beat up white house. I had heard wonders from my mother for so many years and I was standing staring at a house that looked a lot like the portable buildings in the back of my school. There was a garden area out front, but gardens mean bugs and bugs and I have never gotten along. There was a gate to get in the driveway, then a gate over the door and then 5 locks on the door before you were allowed entrance. I felt as if I was going into a top-secret threshold. Contrary to my initial impression, the inside was the completely opposite; it was radiant. The antique record player in the corner, the box TV set and the sparkling chandelier hanging above caught my eyes right away. It all had a royal feel to it. I must have shown the awe on my face because my cousins began to laugh when my jaw dropped to the floor. “Didn’t expect this huh?” my older cousin Federico asked with a grin on his face. He was going to be a tall kid, he was almost his father’s height, or should I say my uncle’s height. When was I ever going to get used to this “family?” Federico had curly black hair like mine, and a slim figure for a 12-year-old boy. Christian was awkward. His figure was chubbier around the waist area and he stuttered a bit too much for me to stand. He was one year older than me, yet acted like the toddlers in preschool. Earlier I had caught him playing with ants, who plays with ants?
The next couple of days flew by as I settled in. I was sleeping in my grandmother’s room for the first 2 nights until I shyly confessed to my aunt that since my grandmother snores like a dragon, I could not sleep well at night. Thankfully, I was allowed to sleep in Christian’s room for the remainder of my stay. The first week I watched a lot of TV in Spanish, slept and ate. Once I was tired of that I began to play with my cousin Christian. He showed me how he played soccer outside in the driveway area and how the goal was to hit either the gate leading to the street or the garage door on the opposite end. We would play one on one and I would of course always lose. The game quickly became our favorite pastime as we began a tournament to see who would win the most games by the end of the summer. The loud racket we caused with that soccer ball will never leave my memory as I can still to this day hear my Aunt Patricia yelling “Stop hitting the garage door before you break it!” We never broke it but got to hear what would happen if we did numerous times. I later also came to find that the ants he played with were super entertaining in a house with no toys. We would get a couple together and race them or put them on the wall and see if we could follow them. Eventually they would escape in any crook or cranny and leave our sight. I was suddenly exposed to a different form of entertainment and joy with a new set of eyes.
As we visited various family members around town, I was struck by the poverty level that was considered the normal way of life here. It was incomprehensible. Everyday my aunt donated a plate of food to the family that slept on the sidewalk across from her house. If we got lucky the mother would let us play with her daughter while she helped my aunt clean around the house. The immense level of poverty was without a doubt, higher than what I was used to back home. At the time I never realized that it was caused by the Guerilla warfare going on all over Colombia. The Colombian people were scared for their lives at all hours. This explained the process to enter our household and why we never left the house completely alone. My grandfather and grandmother usually volunteered to stay behind and take care of the house while we went out. Many times I would stay just to have a competitive game of Parcheesi with my grandmother. I’ll never forget that she was a cheater; she would move her pieces to her advantage when I would look away, but never did she confess her sins. The game suddenly had become a game of strategy, a game of who was the sneakier person, and that person would always win.
Although the neighborhood looked old, the people seemed worn, and the “fun” activities you would think of doing weren’t available to us, I was having the time of my life by the end of that summer. Christian had become a brother and my Aunt another mother figure I could count on. They made me laugh and experience what it was to have a big loud joyous family for the first time in my life. My mother had always spoken of the importance of knowing and loving everyone in your family and this trip taught me just that. My life had changed permanently; my eyes were opened to another world, another culture. I improved my Spanish, which was a key to many of my successes later on in life, and walked away with a dozen new loving relationships I would never let go of. That September, I entered the first grade with a more mature attitude that far exceeded that of my classmates. Also, I had stories that surpassed any pool party memory my friends could reminisce on. The next summer was already planned in my head, three months with the most eccentric and admiring family a person could ask for.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Rough Draft
We were all fidgeting. It was our last day of kindergarten and we all wanted to start our summer. The clock read 1:55 P.M. Only five more minutes. I looked around the room and saw all the familiar faces I was friends with. Ashley, my neighbor and best friend of all time. She had an amazing birthday party planned in late June. Peter, he was so cute, I had admired him from afar all year and was hoping to get a chance to talk to him at Ashley’s party. Then there was Ms.Geiger, our teacher. She was tall for a woman and always walked with a sort of elegance you only see on the runway. She was pulling back strands of her dirty blonde hair that somehow always looked beautiful while sniffling. She was sad we were leaving and was touched by the presents we all had brought her. I was going to miss all of this, the playtime, the nap time, and the special lunchroom for us younger kids. Yet a whole new life was waiting for me, a life of a big kid, a 1st grader, a 7 year old. In first grade we would be allowed to enter the big fields outside with the tall monkey bars during recess. Summer was the perfect time to practice my skills at the local parks and it was only 1 minute away. The bell rang just then and I ran out as quickly as I could and jumped on my mom who was always waiting outside.
“I have great news honey! Get strapped in the back seat so I can tell you all about it!” I hopped in, buckled up and waited for her to continue. As I waited for her to continue I looked at her face. She was so beautiful. She had creases on the side of her eyes that to me represented experience and wisdom. Her hair was cut short at her shoulders dyed a dark red color. Her red hair was always my favorite; it reminded me of my own Hispanic Little Mermaid Princess. She was smiling from ear to ear, one of her best characteristics.
“I bought you a ticket to go see your family in Colombia for the whole summer!”
I was shocked. What was this? She had gone from The Little Mermaid to Ursula herself. A traitor and backstabber. My summer was ruined and all she did was grin. I was to leave the day after tomorrow for three full months to meet this group of strangers I was to call family.
Two days and a short flight later I was getting off the plane in Cali, Colombia and was to greet the people that were to torture me for the next three months. I was getting my last bag when I saw an old woman holding a sign that read my name. I may have only been six at the time but I could at least read my name. I approached her slowly. Her face was worn, as if she had had a hard life; she seemed to have a permanent hunch and was dressed in the tackiest floral print dress I had ever laid my eyes on. She recognized me and lunged at me with her arms wide open. I hugged her back softly thinking to myself this must be grandma. After I escaped her death grip I got my grandfather, my aunt Patricia, my uncle Chacho, my cousin Christian and my cousin Federico introduced to me. They all just stared for awhile and began to ask how I had been doing. I would only respond good over and over again to be polite, but really did these people believe that this is how I wanted to spend my summer?
To get to the house we all rode in a van that reminded me a lot of the private bus that takes me to school. I had a loud family was the first thing I learned in Colombia. Miami has always been known for having loud people but my family was as loud as the NASA shuttles taking off into space. They all talked over each other and no one listened to what the other was saying. It was all getting to be too much when we finally arrived at the house. It was a bland, beat up white house. I had heard wonders from my mother for so many years and I was standing staring at a house that looked a lot like the portables in the back of my school. There was a garden area out front, gardens always meant bugs and bugs and I never got along. There was a gate to get in the driveway, then a gate over the door and then 5 locks on the door before you were allowed entrance. I felt as if I was going into a top secret threshold. The inside was the complete opposite, it was radiant. The antiques caught my eyes right away; the record player in the corner, the box TV set and the sparkling chandelier hanging above. It all had a royal feel to it. I must have shown the awe on my face for my cousins began to laugh when my jaw dropped to the floor.
“Didn’t expect this huh?” my older cousin Federico asked with a grin on his face. He was going to be a tall kid, he was almost his father’s height, or should I say my uncle’s height. When was I ever going to get used to this “family?” Federico had curly black hair like me and a slim figure for a boy of 12. Christian was kind of dorky; he was chubbier around the waist area and stuttered a bit too much for me to stand. He was one year older than me, earlier on the van ride here I had seen him playing with an ant, it truly made me question what was wrong with him.
The next couple of days flew by as I settled in. I was sleeping in my grandmother’s room for the first 2 nights until I shyly confessed to my aunt that my grandmother’s dragon like snores did not let me sleep at night and was gladly allowed to sleep in Christian’s room for the remainder of my stay. The first week I watched a lot of TV in Spanish, slept and ate. Once I was tired of that I began to play with my cousin Christian. He showed me how he played soccer outside in the driveway area and how the goal was to hit either the gate leading to the street or the garage door on the opposite end. We would play one on one and I would of course always lose. The game quickly became our favorite past time as we began a tournament to see who would win the most games by the end of the summer. I later also came to find that the ants he played with were super entertaining in a house with no toys. We would get a couple together and race them or put them on the wall and see if we could follow them. Eventually they would escape in any crook or cranny and leave our sight.
The poverty level struck me as incomprehensible. Everyday my aunt donated a plate of food to the family that slept on the sidewalk across our house. If we got lucky the mother would let us play with her daughter while she helped my aunt clean around the house. The poverty level was definitely higher than what I was used to back home and at the time I never realized that it was caused by the Guerilla warfare going on all over Colombia.
Although the neighborhood looked old, the people seemed worn, and the “fun” activities I would love to do were too expensive for my family to afford, I was having the time of my life by the end of that summer. Christian and I became extremely close and my aunt became a second mother to me. Everyone was always so happy to accommodate the little American girl. My Spanish skills sharpened while I was there and began when the day came for me to leave I bawled like a baby in my aunt’s arms. My mother had definitely given me a superior summer than I had ever thought possible. My life had changed permanently; my eyes were opened to another world, another culture. I learned the value of family and the substantial things that awaited me outside of Miami. That September I entered the first grade with stories that surpassed any pool party my friends had attended. I was already anxious for the next summer to come and rush back to Colombia to continue getting to know my family.
“I have great news honey! Get strapped in the back seat so I can tell you all about it!” I hopped in, buckled up and waited for her to continue. As I waited for her to continue I looked at her face. She was so beautiful. She had creases on the side of her eyes that to me represented experience and wisdom. Her hair was cut short at her shoulders dyed a dark red color. Her red hair was always my favorite; it reminded me of my own Hispanic Little Mermaid Princess. She was smiling from ear to ear, one of her best characteristics.
“I bought you a ticket to go see your family in Colombia for the whole summer!”
I was shocked. What was this? She had gone from The Little Mermaid to Ursula herself. A traitor and backstabber. My summer was ruined and all she did was grin. I was to leave the day after tomorrow for three full months to meet this group of strangers I was to call family.
Two days and a short flight later I was getting off the plane in Cali, Colombia and was to greet the people that were to torture me for the next three months. I was getting my last bag when I saw an old woman holding a sign that read my name. I may have only been six at the time but I could at least read my name. I approached her slowly. Her face was worn, as if she had had a hard life; she seemed to have a permanent hunch and was dressed in the tackiest floral print dress I had ever laid my eyes on. She recognized me and lunged at me with her arms wide open. I hugged her back softly thinking to myself this must be grandma. After I escaped her death grip I got my grandfather, my aunt Patricia, my uncle Chacho, my cousin Christian and my cousin Federico introduced to me. They all just stared for awhile and began to ask how I had been doing. I would only respond good over and over again to be polite, but really did these people believe that this is how I wanted to spend my summer?
To get to the house we all rode in a van that reminded me a lot of the private bus that takes me to school. I had a loud family was the first thing I learned in Colombia. Miami has always been known for having loud people but my family was as loud as the NASA shuttles taking off into space. They all talked over each other and no one listened to what the other was saying. It was all getting to be too much when we finally arrived at the house. It was a bland, beat up white house. I had heard wonders from my mother for so many years and I was standing staring at a house that looked a lot like the portables in the back of my school. There was a garden area out front, gardens always meant bugs and bugs and I never got along. There was a gate to get in the driveway, then a gate over the door and then 5 locks on the door before you were allowed entrance. I felt as if I was going into a top secret threshold. The inside was the complete opposite, it was radiant. The antiques caught my eyes right away; the record player in the corner, the box TV set and the sparkling chandelier hanging above. It all had a royal feel to it. I must have shown the awe on my face for my cousins began to laugh when my jaw dropped to the floor.
“Didn’t expect this huh?” my older cousin Federico asked with a grin on his face. He was going to be a tall kid, he was almost his father’s height, or should I say my uncle’s height. When was I ever going to get used to this “family?” Federico had curly black hair like me and a slim figure for a boy of 12. Christian was kind of dorky; he was chubbier around the waist area and stuttered a bit too much for me to stand. He was one year older than me, earlier on the van ride here I had seen him playing with an ant, it truly made me question what was wrong with him.
The next couple of days flew by as I settled in. I was sleeping in my grandmother’s room for the first 2 nights until I shyly confessed to my aunt that my grandmother’s dragon like snores did not let me sleep at night and was gladly allowed to sleep in Christian’s room for the remainder of my stay. The first week I watched a lot of TV in Spanish, slept and ate. Once I was tired of that I began to play with my cousin Christian. He showed me how he played soccer outside in the driveway area and how the goal was to hit either the gate leading to the street or the garage door on the opposite end. We would play one on one and I would of course always lose. The game quickly became our favorite past time as we began a tournament to see who would win the most games by the end of the summer. I later also came to find that the ants he played with were super entertaining in a house with no toys. We would get a couple together and race them or put them on the wall and see if we could follow them. Eventually they would escape in any crook or cranny and leave our sight.
The poverty level struck me as incomprehensible. Everyday my aunt donated a plate of food to the family that slept on the sidewalk across our house. If we got lucky the mother would let us play with her daughter while she helped my aunt clean around the house. The poverty level was definitely higher than what I was used to back home and at the time I never realized that it was caused by the Guerilla warfare going on all over Colombia.
Although the neighborhood looked old, the people seemed worn, and the “fun” activities I would love to do were too expensive for my family to afford, I was having the time of my life by the end of that summer. Christian and I became extremely close and my aunt became a second mother to me. Everyone was always so happy to accommodate the little American girl. My Spanish skills sharpened while I was there and began when the day came for me to leave I bawled like a baby in my aunt’s arms. My mother had definitely given me a superior summer than I had ever thought possible. My life had changed permanently; my eyes were opened to another world, another culture. I learned the value of family and the substantial things that awaited me outside of Miami. That September I entered the first grade with stories that surpassed any pool party my friends had attended. I was already anxious for the next summer to come and rush back to Colombia to continue getting to know my family.
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